Drink with a Demon
by Phlogistics
Summary: Anya attempts to seek vengeance on the behalf of Hermione Granger. She has found herself to be largely unsuccessful. HP xover.


_Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy the Vampire Slayer nor Harry Potter. All credit for them goes respectively to Joss Whedon and J. K. Rowling._

**Drink with a Demon**

Hermione Granger wasn't having a good day.

In fact, she might go so far as to say she was having a bad day. Or maybe an awful day. Possibly a dreadful one. But, semantics aside, she had come to the conclusion she was… unhappy.

Or so she was led to believe by her current situation: sitting alone in a Muggle bar sipping on what she believed may've been her fourth or fifth lime green drink, and sniffling to herself while thinking of one Ronald Weasley and his inability to be anything other than a complete dunderhead. She couldn't really remember precisely what he'd done wrong right now- everything was all fuzzy and jumbled, and thinking about it too much just made everything blurrier-, but she was sure that her anger was justified. After all, she was supposed to be the brightest witch of her age, and if she thought her fiancé was being stupid, then he was.

She staunchly ignored the niggling voice in the back of her mind that kept pointing out that getting drunk in a strange American bar where she didn't know anyone and couldn't use magic wasn't the type of thing a supposed "brightest witch" would do.

"Men," came an irritated voice suddenly from beside her. Which was odd, because she could've sworn she was sitting alone just a moment ago, but the young blond woman who had spoken had a point.

She nodded her agreement, and gave a little half-sobbed, "Fiancés," in response. That answer, though, neither covered the depth of her feelings nor was entirely coherent, and she felt the need to elaborate.

"All they do… is make you l-love them, and th-then… be complete arseholes, a-and they never l-listen, and d-don't do anything nice for you…" she finally managed, speaking slowly so as to not slur her words too badly with tears or alcohol.

"I completely understand, sad little British girl," said the woman. "Men are only good for the orgasms they give, and I have several acquaintances who tell me that women and vibrators are equally good for such pleasures. So, really, men are totally useless, and not at all worth all the pain we go through when in relationships with them. And if they propose- well, those men are the worst." She cast a sidelong look at Hermione. "So, you mentioned a fiancé?"

"Yes," said Hermione, scowling a little. "R-Ron. H-He—he just doesn't e-ever appreciate…" Her voice trailed off as her confused thoughts tried to fit themselves together into sentences. Her work for the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, this trip to California… "We c-came here for my j-job," she explained slowly. "I don't have t-to travel often, but I work h-hard, and what I do is im-important to me. But he d-doesn't care at all! H-he's always making f-fun of me, e-ever since school, and doesn't ap-appreciate how hard i-it can be…"

"Of course," said the woman. "Men don't appreciate anything. And once they've proposed, they appreciate even less! Don't you think that you deserve better than that? Don't you think that Ron hasn't treated you with enough respect? Don't you just wish that he could get what's coming to him?"

"Yes!" said Hermione, hiccupping now. "He n-never gets in trouble for wh-what he says! I a-always forgive him! E-everyone does! No ma-matter what!"

"Some men are lucky like that," said the woman. "It's like, no matter what he does to you, his friends will always forgive him! Even when you're the one crying! That stupid man will have your heart held in his hands and then, right when you're about to enter into what all the magazines and romantic paperbacks I've read have said should be ultimate wedded bliss, he turns on you, and suddenly you're standing in your beautiful dress in the middle of the aisle wondering what you've done wrong! And then he'll say 'Oh, Anya, I'm so sorry that I broke your heart and ruined your life, will you take me back?' and all of his friends will think that everything's okay, and that you should feel fine again! Stupid men!"

Although she was relatively sure they were no longer talking about her problems, Hermione raised her glass a offered a shaky, "Hear, hear."

The woman sighed disgustedly. "Don't you just wish that men like that would get what's coming to them? Don't you wish that Ron would just wake up someday as a giant squid?"

Hermione sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. "Most of the time," she admitted. "Though not a giant squid sp-specifically. Still…" she paused for a moment, at a loss. Ever since their first year, Ron had been terrible to Hermione. Even when they were friends, they fought more often than not, and half the time she couldn't stand to sight of him. Yet, they had been through so much together. Ron, Harry, and herself… she tried to fight off the headache coming on from too many attempts at sensible thought while inebriated.

Finally, she said, "We don't always get along, b-but I don't want him to suffer. Not really."

"But why not?" the woman asked, sounding distressed. "When a man wrongs you, how can you not want to make his penis grow boils, or rip out his intestines? Why not have him suffer?"

"Because I love him," said Hermione.

"But his idiocy causes you even more pain because you do! Don't you wish that you didn't love him, that he'd never even been born?"

Her tears finally drying, Hermione took a deep breath. "Maybe he can hurt me," she replied. "I normally wouldn't get drunk and spill my heart out to a stranger, if it weren't for him. My head wouldn't be swimming, and I wouldn't be talking as slowly as someone with a mental impairment to try and keep my words straight. But..." She smiled. "I also wouldn't be near as happy as I am."

The blond woman scowled. "Well, great for you," she said. "Some of us are just trying to help you out, but you're being totally uncooperative and don't even want vengeance. What's with that?" she whined. "I can't get my vengeance, and suddenly nobody will even let me give them theirs? What's wrong with the world?" She groaned loudly, picked up her purse, said, "Bye, and thanks not at all for your total lack of imagination or natural human inclination towards violence," and was gone.

Hermione blinked. She turned back towards her drink and took a long sip.

She really had had too much to drink...

_A/N: As this is my first crossover, I'm incredibly eager to know what you thought. Even a short note of "Anya was kinda funny" works. Or "Anya wasn't funny." I'd very much like to know, so please review!_


End file.
